The Exorcism of Marlo Spinzante
by Brennon Sithech
Summary: When the Assassins of Venice fear that supernatural forces threaten the continued existence of their order, they call upon the Witchfinder too wipe clean the city. The nights work begins...


**The Exorcism of Marlo Spinzante**

The cold night in Venice had forced many of the cities inhabitants indoors. It was the middle of festival season, and the carnivals were in full swing. The decadent nobles and their ambitious wives would hold lavish parties, but the normal people of Venice had neither the money nor the means to celebrate as such. In one such household, towards the centre of town where the night was still in its infancy the manor of Raphael Alessandro was hosting one such party, and beneath its polished floors the other citizens worked away with gusto.

Marlo, a short and stumpy man of little defining feature busied himself with the washing up. It had been a long day and now he was looking forward to a rest. The cauldron which served as his basin was filled to the brim with plates and assorted cutlery; it had been a feast to remember. He could still smell the scent of rich gravy the cook had prepared lingering in the warm air around him and he wished that he had been allowed to attend the feast as well. Alas it seemed it would never be so. He was a mere kitchen hand and no amount of sneaking and shadowing would ever get him into the great hall a floor above. He could take some pleasure however in the leftovers the fat lords and ladies 'graciously' left deposited on their plates. He looked to his pile of sausage ends and potatoes. At least he would eat well tonight.

The door to the small wash room opened behind him and Marlo turned to see who would be visiting at such a time. A man dressed in a tan leather coat which concealed a well trimmed shirt, a wide brimmed hat, and knee high boots stood framed in the doorway. Marlo almost dropped the soapy plate in his hand as he realised who it was.

'You' the voice said with a new sense of authority. 'You're coming with me'.

The strange man lifted an arm and indicated with his finger for Marlo to come to him. Marlo glanced down at the figures other hand, a pair of heavy iron manacles grasped tightly, rattling as he moved them against his leg.

'But, but I have done nothing, I am innocent!' Marlo protested, scrambling backwards, pushing the large cauldron over and sending water all over the small room. He stumbled still more until he had nowhere else to go, his back hitting the cold stone wall.

'They all say that' the figure said, the short sentence laced with tiredness as if he had done this far more times than he wanted. 'We can do this the hard way' he said, motioning to a hidden flintlock pistol at his side 'or the easy way'.

Marlo pleaded and shrivelled in the corner trying to avoid the eyes of the man before him. The stranger walked into the room, his leather boots splashing in the shallow puddles beneath and held up the manacles.

'The easy way, or the hard way' he said again, before throwing the manacles onto a table near Marlo.

Marlo did not move, only began to chant quickly in Latin. The stranger sighed and pulled the pistol from his belt, switching it in his hand so he held the barrel like a club. He stalked forwards and grabbed Marlo roughly, hoisting him against the wall, with a sharp crack he bought the pistol down on Marlo's temple.

The stunned form of Marlo slumped to the floor. The stranger reached for the manacles and with tried and tested proficiency bound the kitchen assistant's wrists and ankles. In a short flick of his hand he moved aside Marlo's work shirt revealing his chest which rose and fell gently.

It was there.

***

Twelve miles away as the city faded away into the hills and the noise of the festivities was slightly muffled by the olive trees a small stone house stood in stark relief on the skyline. The little square building stood as an uncharacteristic block on an otherwise wooded ridge, a small planked door marking the only entrance to the hovel. The sound of horse's hooves on the flagstone outside bought a man to its door, who pushed it open with a creak. He was dressed in what could only be described as rags, torn and stained - it did little to cover the almost skeletal frame beneath it. A leather piece festooned his head, tied tight with straps beneath his jutting chin. The wisps of a beard moved gently as the night breeze flowed around him and he stood expectantly as the horse and rider wound their way to his door.

The rider dismounted and pulled a bundle from the back of his steed, letting it fall with a thud on the ground. A low moan escaped the parcel and the rider kicked it sharply, halting the slow movements of it in an instant.

'Another one?' the wizened owner of the hovel said, looking up from the bundle to the rider's face.

'Yes Delano. I found him in the kitchens of Raphael Alessandro. He was perfectly hidden. If it were not for the information I gleaned from his family I would have not suspected him at all.'

'Good' Delano muttered thoughtfully, bending on creaking knees to the mound of fabric prodding it with his finger. 'I take it you will be wanting payment for this one again Baldo?' he fumbled for a pouch at his side.

'No' Baldo replied swiftly. 'I want to do this one myself'.

Delano nodded with understanding and shuffled back towards the rickety door. He shoved a small rock to the door frame to keep it open. Baldo reached down and pulled the rope attached to the cloth sack and dragged it into the little building, the moans once more coming from it as it moved uncomfortably over flagstones and mounds of earth.

Inside Delano hastened to a set of candles and lamps he had set into the walls and above a small fireplace which smouldered gently. They flickered into life as he closed his hands around them and blew gently. The glow of the melted lights sent eerie images across the stone walls and illuminated the table which lay in the centre of the small room. The table was of a rich mahogany, with elegant legs ending in eagles feet. The surface was flat and without mark save a golden and gilded edging that framed four corners of its surface. Baldo stepped in and dragged the sack with him, shoving it to the floor. He took the wide brimmed hat from his head and stuck it on a rickety chair near the door. Long dark hair was tied back in a ponytail behind his head and his facial features were clearer. He had a gaunt face, cheekbones prodding from stretched skin. His pointed jaw ended in a small goatee beard with a dark shadow of stubble above his top lip hinting at the beginning of a moustache. His eyes were set back under a thick brow, hooded with shaggy eyebrows. The eyes themselves were like coals rimmed with a strange purple glow.

His eyes turned to Delano who nodded in silent agreement to his gaze and moved to the table situated in the middle of the room. He bent under with a moan of forced movement and flicked a wooden catch. Above on the tables surface the gilded corners revealed bronze manacles fixed with nails to the wood. Baldo grabbed the bags cord and undid it in one go, the form of Marlo rolling out with a bloody whelp on his temple. A myriad of bruises covered his arms from the hard journey and the rough kicks of Baldo and blood dripped from his nose steadily. Baldo sneered, it was a pitiful scene and grabbed under the wretches shoulders hoisting him onto the mahogany table and with the aid of Delano clasped him to its surface.

'Get the book' Baldo said as he opened Marlo's eyes examining their movements.

Delano shuffled to the shelf above the fire and pulled a large leather book from its surface. The spine was worn and faded and the golden writing was almost gone. 'Libria Demonologia'was the only part that could be gazed upon. He bought it to the table side and laid it down next to Marley's moaning form and flicked through it, the quick snatches of pages revealing pictures and writings of a curious nature. He stopped finally on a page covered in scrawled handwriting, only occasionally adorned with even more peculiar images.

'I have found it Baldo, the right words I think for this particular case'. He showed the page to Baldo who nodded with approval.

Baldo took the book from the frail old man and held it to the candle lights. He began to talk in a low and menacing whisper, motioning with his free hand for Delano to remove Marlo's shirt. The old man did so, and the reasoning for the treatment he was enduring became clear. Sunk into Marlo's breastbone and as red as the fading evening sky was a mark, etched into Marlo's very skin. It was not crude and looked as if penned by a scrivener of some skill. A flowing 'S' rose and fell with each of Marlo's now ragged breaths. Baldo looked to his quarries face. Did this man really know of what dwelt within him? The moment of questioning left quickly as he watched the 'S' squirm and writhe, the lines of the ornate design moving and changing before their eyes. He hasted back to the book in his arms and chanted again.

Marlo's body began to stir with the 'S's' movements. His hands clenched underneath the press of the manacles and his legs went stiff. Delano stood back, reaching for a dagger at his belt ready to strike in case the worst came to be. Marlo's breath then stopped. Baldo continued to chant, he glanced at Delano who seemed taken aback by the actions of Marlo and drew the silver dagger fully, positioning it over the neck of the man. Baldo stopped his chant.

'That's it' he muttered, 'now we wait'. Baldo set the book down and drew the pistol from its holster and aimed it at Marlo's chest.

They did not have to wait long. In a flash of crimson Marlo's chest burst open, a bloody form rising from the cavity. It unfurled and stretched out thin spindly arms. It was a terrible sight. Marlo's body lay in ruin, but the man still lived, moaning with agony. Above him was a skeletal form, its thin skin bathed in Marlo's blood. Atop its bony chest which heaved with ragged breaths was a monstrous skull. The forehead was crowned with curved horns and in the place where eyes should be was a complete darkness.

Baldo stepped back and with a sideways glance fired a shot into Marlo's head, killing him and putting him out of his misery. Delano chanted on the other side of the sprouting beast and cast the small wooden cross in its direction. The monster recoiled but stepped from the cadaver upon the table onto the straw lain floor. It grasped for the old man, clutching at his habit and lifting him off his feet.

'The vessel is dead, but he will no longer be needed.' The monsters words were convoluted and twisted in speech and it glared into the eyes of the old man.

It raised a withered limb and went to swipe down on him, but Delano despite his age raised his dagger in defence. The clawed hand clashed with the daggers blade and a searing flash burst forth from it, making the creature recoil with pain.

'Silver' Delano said, pushing from the beasts now loosened grip and staggering backwards, raising the cross to the being once more.

The time the demon had spent with Delano had left Baldo time to reload his pistol and he now levelled it at the head of the beast. With a flash and stench of black powder that stung the nostrils the weapon discharged and smashed the 'things' skull to pieces. Instead of falling to the ground in a heap the body continued to move, turning on Baldo and reaching for him with grasping claws. Baldo grimaced and kicked it backwards to the floor and stood above it, his boots on its wrists.

'Delano hand me the cross please.' He motioned for the wooden object around Delano's neck.

He handed it to him, looking down at the ruined things face. Baldo took it and a small vial of liquid from his belt and dipped the tip within it. The cross now soaked in the clear liquid he plunged it downwards to where the demons heart should be. It pierced the bone and crimson flesh and stuck fast. Smoke and the smell of sulphur filled the small room as the demons body writhed on the floor. The bones melted away in a puddle of crimson and the room was silent once more. The candles flickered gently as the two men stood there above the dark stained floor. Behind them the corpse of Marlo lay motionless.

'I think we should clear this away Delano.' Baldo stepped from the pool and wiped the blood from the wooden cross, handing it back to the old man.

'Of course, I will see to the grave of this poor fellow and make preparations for his disappearance. I think I still hold some influence with the guard.' He took the cross and put it around his neck, moving to the table to unclasp Marlo's body.

Baldo walked to the door and took his wide brimmed hat from it and perched it upon his head.

'There is still more work to do, we must proceed with haste'. Baldo walked from the small shack closing the door gently and mounted his horse.

He looked down onto the city below him. The lights and sounds of the carnival were a perfect mask for whatever deeds the evil ones would be committing. The sound and flash of a firework in the sky broke him from his thoughts.

It was going to be a long night.


End file.
